Chris’s turn to write……………
We finally got away for our long planned two day trip out to Seal Caye, after a combination of other commitments and choppy seas forced a series of postponements. Living here we get the luxury of picking and choosing our fishing days, on the basis of “if today isn't perfect, tomorrow probably will be”.

So Sue and I, with our head guide, Ian Cuevas, roared off at dawn in his boat Opportunity, on a south east course bound for Seal Caye and the channels and gullies which surround it. About ten miles off Monkey River we suddenly realised we had company. A big splash in front of the boat, and we had a pod of dolphin escorting us out to sea. We estimated there were around a dozen dolphins including a pup, swimming alongside us, taking it in turns to take up position one on each bow and one right in front of the boat. They stayed with us for a couple of miles and then disappeared just as suddenly as they had come. Although dolphins are a common sight here, even sometimes right beside our dock at Steppingstones, I never tire of seeing them playing in the water.

Seal Caye is part of the Sapodilla group of cayes, which mark the very southern most tip of Belize's barrier reef, incidentally the longest barrier reef of living coral in the world. Seal Caye itself is a tiny privately owned caye consisting of conch shells and small pieces of coral, maybe 100yd long and 40yds wide with a couple of cabanas on it. This particular area is best known for its permit and bonefish which shoal on the numerous flats in the area. The deep channels, in fact some of the deepest channels inside the reef, are home to a wide variety of sport fish and frequently deep water species will be found there too.

Our plan was to explore the kingfish potential in the area in particular, so we settled down for a morning of deep trolling with 20lb class gear, pulling Yo Zuri L Magnums and Manns Stretch 25’s. It was not long before a wrenching hit and a screaming reel gave us our first fish of the day which turned out to be a barracuda of around 8lbs. Ideal size for dinner. Contrary to popular belief, barracuda meat is not poisonous, and the ciguera toxin associated with them only seems to be a regional problem in some parts of the world. Fortunately, not a problem in this region for barracuda is highly prized as a food fish locally, having meat very similar to cod we used to get back in the UK. Fortunately, unlike cod, barracuda here are prolific, so there is never a shortage of good fish to eat. Nevertheless we only take what we intend to eat, and release everything else. That is just common sense.

So we trolled along through a quiet period with only an occasional flying fish to capture our attention. I had one more hit, but whatever it was pulled free. Then another hit, this time with a long run which is characteristic of kingfish. Sure enough, a kingfish of around 10lbs came into view, a bright bar of silver blue showing deep against the translucent green water. Anyway, in it came and at least confirmed our thoughts that the kingfish are here.

We then decided to take a run outside the reef, and found a channel which Ian's fish finder showed as 150ft, hoping for a tuna or two, but nothing showed up, so we decided to stop for our lunch. We ran in to Nicholas Caye which was nearby, so we could anchor up on the beach and over a picnic lunch of cold chicken with Sue's famous 'chips and dips' decided on our plan for the afternoon.

Ian felt we would be better off inside the reef in the deep channels where we had found the kingfish in the morning. There are also tarpon in this area so this sounded like a good bet. Sue wanted to check out the bonefish in the area first, so as we were on the edge of some flats Ian poled us across, following a huge shoal of bonefish, with a scattering of permit. We did not have a fly rod with us so we watched as the shoal melted away in front of us. We did run across an area where the sand had been stirred up, a common sign of bonefish feeding, but it turned out to be a large eagle ray digging for its lunch.

So back out to the channel just inside the reef. At Ian's suggestion I ran out a Rapala Sliver in needlefish colour. It was not long before my rod ripped around again and this time a nice little bonita came in. The bonita, or false albacore, is extremely common here and large shoals roam around getting preyed on by pretty well everything else, so this was a good sign. The bonita unlike most of the tunas is not particularly good eating, but does make first class cut bait. However as bottom fishing was not on the agenda for today we put the bonita back to rejoin its shoal.

All this time, Sue had been sitting patiently waiting for her turn in the limelight. I turned to make some comment to Ian about this and no sooner were the words out of my mouth than Sue's rod slammed round and she was away. Five minutes later a dark shape appeared under the boat which Ian identified as a grouper. It was not until we got it on board he could positively identify it as a yellow fin grouper, one of the rarer ones apparently! Not a huge fish, but a pretty one, and it fell to a Halco Laser Pro in blue/silver, running at about 12 feet. Interestingly this fish had hit in around 30ft of water, so it had shot up from its coral lair to hit Sue's lure.

One of the really nice things down here is the seemingly endless varieties of fish we bring in. Almost every trip out we see something new. Probably if we spent some time bottom fishing we would see still more species, but we are concentrating on lure fishing for now.

So we trolled onward, running over a coral floor in depths varying from 20 ft down to around 80ft, but nothing much happened apart from one more hit which did not hook up. Then just as we were thinking of running back to Seal Caye, I had another hit and a really nice Spanish mackerel of around 3lb came in. Again not a major sporting fish although a good fish when on light tackle inshore, and not a great eating fish, so back it went. We don’t see Spanish mackerel much bigger than this around here, so it was a good way to end the day.

Ian wanted to get back to Seal Caye before dusk as the channel in to the dock is not marked and requires a careful approach through razor sharp coral heads. So we ran back up to the caye and Ian eased our way in to the dock without incident.

Our hosts Orwin and Pal welcomed us at the dock, and were delighted with our catch of fish. We ate with them that night and crashed out in the very pleasant cabanas they have there, promising an early start in the morning. As usual, after a day on the water we slept like logs and I had great difficulty dragging myself out of bed not long after dawn next day, leaving Sue dead to the world in bed. I wandered down to the dock to find Ian permit spotting in the early morning light. Unbelievably he had located a shoal of permit about thirty yards off the dock on a stony flat just tailing, quite unconcerned about us watching them. Orwin had set a night line and something had made off with his snapper livebait, breaking his line, after first taking a few loops around one of the dock piles. Probably one of the big eagle rays which are common here, although Orwin said he had caught some big snappers off the dock at night.

Well, time for breakfast. We ate a hearty breakfast of refried beans and scrambled eggs (Sue brought out some of our own new laid eggs from Steppingstones as a treat for Orwin and Pal for whom fresh food is a bit of a luxury), plus coffee and fresh squeezed lime juice. We decided over breakfast to run down the inside of the reef, hopping from channel to channel, right down to White Reef at the very tip of the Sapodillas where there was a channel even Ian had not fished.

So, despite some angry looking clouds on the southern horizon we set off. At the beginning of each trip I make a point to get Ian's confirmation of the sea condition since as our guide and captain it is his decision (and his alone) to go to sea or not. Ian has fished these waters man and boy and has learnt to read the weather and sea conditions. Ian had said we might get wet, but the sea was ok. So there we were running down a channel about 30ft deep with the reef marked by a line of jagged rocks and surf about 200yds to the west off our port bow. The day was not as bright as yesterday, but a pleasant breeze was keeping us cool. Ideal kingfish conditions, they love cloud and a bit of a chop.

Our confidence was high and I had one of those 'good feelings' about today. For the first hour or so, however, nothing happened. How could we be so wrong? The lures which had been accepted yesterday were ignored today. Not even a stray barracuda. I decided to run a smaller lure on a light rod just behind the propwash from our boat. I chose a Rapala CD9 Magnum in blue sardine colour. Right on cue my little rod slammed around and the reel screamed as line poured off. I remember thinking, it HAD to be the light rod that got the hit didn't it? Anyway 100yds later the fish stopped and I started pumping it back. Heavy and not much fight I thought. As the fish approached the boat I sensed something was very wrong. Could it be a huge clump of weed? It was not until I hauled in the front half of a 10lb kingfish that the truth was revealed. Something had chopped my catch clean in half!

Whatever could have done that? We speculated it was either a shark or a very big kingfish. I had felt nothing on the line so it was a very sudden and powerful bite whatever it was. We spent the next half hour arguing about whether half fish counted or not. This debate went on until suddenly Sue took centre stage with a good hit followed by a long run and the acrobatics typical of a good barracuda. Eventually the fish came in, estimated at 18lbs or so. It was a male and very thin so we thought it had probably just spawned. In good nick, that would have been a good 25lbs possibly more.

No sooner had that fish been dealt with than Sue's Halco Laser Pro was hit again. This time a long, long run which Sue could do nothing about except watch the line flying off her reel. The fish stopped then started running across behind us, and Sue started gaining line. After ten minutes or so her catch came into view - a 'proper' kingfish and on landing it we reckoned about 25lbs (Sue thought about 30lbs).

By this time I was feeling a bit upstaged so I was relieved when at last my little rod slammed round again and I was clearly into another kingfish. Hopefully I would get the whole fish this time…. I got the fish close to the boat, ready for gaffing, when it suddenly found a new lease of life and made a sudden lunge under the boat. My poor little spinning rod hooped over and then there was a sickening bang as the rod blew up.

Quick as a flash Sue grabbed the 18inch top of my rod and started playing the fish as I frantically let line out from the reel on the butt section of the rod. Then Sue started tiring and Ian took over my rod tip. Ian told Sue to take the helm of his precious boat (which shows how excited he was, letting a woman touch Opportunity). Sue climbed over the seat and took the helm and expertly steered the boat away from the kingfish which seemed determined to cause as much trouble as possible. Despite the desperate situation there was a lot of humour flying around and it became hard to concentrate with all three of us laughing our heads off, shouting comments and instructions at each other.

So a further ten minutes elapsed with Ian playing the fish with (effectively) an 18 inch rod, and me reeling in or giving line as needed. Eventually the fish took pity on us and gave in, and Ian gaffed it one handed. A very skillful balancing act I thought. It was not until we got the fish on the deck that we realised it was foul hooked just behind the gill covers. No wonder it had fought so hard. The kingfish that caused all this trouble was at the end no more than probably 18 to 20lbs, but it gave the three of us a fight to remember.

At this point the weather looked to be closing in, and although the sea was, as Ian had forecast earlier in the day, fairly calm, there were black clouds, and worse, spectacular lightning approaching. So reluctantly we had to turn and run for shore. It was clear from the start of our 50 minute run back we were not going to outrun a front coming down from the north, and so it turned out. We arrived back at our dock like three drowned rats, but somehow after two days full of incident and adventure we hardly noticed. Even though we are lucky enough to live and fish in this little corner of paradise, none of us will forget the trip when teamwork won the day.